


war hero

by limehoneytea (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Friendship, Gen, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, No Plot/Plotless, Stream of Consciousness, The Marauders - Freeform, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, War is Bad™, but also angst, literally every single character in this fic is dead, sort of bittersweet fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/limehoneytea
Summary: They say, “war hero,” they say, “martyr,” they say, “they’ll always be remembered.” They tell the orphans “your parents were brave,” and hope their minds are too young to ask why they had to be.They don’t know the answer to that. No one quite does. So, they repeat, “war hero,” they repeat, “martyr,” they repeat, “they’ll always be remembered,” and somewhere, deep inside them, they hope that it’s true.
Relationships: (background), James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marauders & Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter & Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	war hero

**Author's Note:**

> I stumbled upon some really good social media aus on tumblr yesterday about these characters and i just HAD to write something with them.

A war is brewing. 

It’s a well-known fact and anyone who has picked up a copy of the Prophet recently, knows so. They know that dark forces are rising and that their lives may be placed in danger very soon. They know that they’re entering a time of darkness and little hope, and they know that they will have to fight for the freedom to live.

They know _ of _ the war, but they don’t quite know the war just yet.

They don’t know the constant feeling of being watched, of reaching for your wand at the rattle of leaves and the creaks of doors. They don’t know how it feels to lose most coherent thought, to have ‘ protect, stay alive, protect, stay alive,’ run like a mantra through their heads when they enter the battlefield, wands at the ready and spells on the tip of their tongues. 

They don’t know the fear. They fear what will come, yes, but they don’t know the fear of not knowing whether it will be your last: your last meal, last conversation, last night, last _ goodbye _ . They fear death and tragedy and loss, but they don’t fear _ fear _ itself.

But they wouldn’t know to. The ones that would, from the last time a wizard thought they were above all else, are far too old to fight anymore, at least, to fight as well as the young ones can. They lack the endurance for it, for starts, and have had a hard time keeping to their will and passion. 

So, they sit behind their desks and send the young ones to the battlefields, the children who shouldn’t have had to be soldiers in a war whose seeds were planted before they were even an idea. And the young ones, the children and the adults who didn’t quite get to be adults, with their endurance and their passion for justice and all things_ good,_ go. They fight and they die and they’re labeled ‘war heroes’ as if the title is enough to make up for the life they’ve lost.

But they’re not there yet, not quite. There will be loss and fear and war but they still have some ways to go. Here, they get to be children in their common room, lounging like they have no care in the world and talking about History of Magic and a trip to Zonko’s. They get to laugh and eat sweets and joke and throw books at their friends for saying something stupid or just for the heck of it. 

Here, James Potter (war hero, d. 1981) gets to run his fingers through his girlfriend’s hair and smile over her head to his best friends. Here, Lily Evans (war hero, d. 1981) gets to curl up by the fire, her head pressed against the love of her life’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and smiling as she catches pieces of fudge thrown by her friends into her mouth. 

Here, Sirius Black (war hero, d. 1996) gets to doodle plans for their epic 7th-year graduation prank instead of doing his Transfiguration homework, and Remus Lupin (war hero, d. 1998) gets to absentmindedly draw patterns onto his shoulder in anxious anticipation for the coming full moon. 

Here, Peter Pettigrew (traitor, d. 1998) gets to bask in the light of his friends and linger in his loyalty for them, never having to wonder whether this loyalty will ever be tested and not quite letting the fear of this new Dark Lord settle into his bones. 

Here, Marlene McKinnon (war hero, d. 1981) gets to throw her head back and laugh, Gideon and Fabian Prewett (war heroes, d. 1980) get to hum over their sister’s pumpkin pie, and Dorcas Meadowes (war hero, d. 1981) gets to braid her best friend’s hair. 

Here, Amelia Bones (war hero, d. 1996) gets to make pretty study sheets for her exams, Emmeline Vance (war hero, d. 1996) gets to practice her Defense spells to pass the class rather than to fight evil, and Regulus Black (war hero, d. 1979) gets to burrow himself in a corner of the school and pore over the books his mother gave him, just then starting to question whether she really was right about everything as he thought she was. 

Here, they get to be children and not soldiers, children who mean more than just a title and a death date, children with hopes and dreams and passions, and children who lose their lives before any of their aspirations can be reached. Children, who aren't made to die at 17 or at 21 or live to 36 or 38 having spent less time with the people they loved than they spent grieving them. 

They say, “war hero,” they say, “martyr,” they say, “they’ll always be remembered.” 

They tell the orphans “your parents were brave,” and hope their minds are too young to ask why they had to be.

Why did they have to be brave? Why did children, fresh out of school, have to grit their teeth and point their wands and _ fight _, when they were supposed to be learning how to be adults by fucking up and trying again, over and over. 

They don’t know the answer to that. No one quite does. So, they repeat, “war hero,” they repeat, “martyr,” they repeat, “they’ll always be remembered,” and somewhere, deep inside them, they hope that it’s true.

A war is brewing. 

But, that’s the operative word, isn’t it? _ Brewing _. Brewing as in not yet, brewing as in, in the works, brewing as in they still have a little time. 

A little time to yell over Quidditch games and to browse future careers for after the war (if they survive it). A little time to laugh and make out and watch bad Muggle movies. Just a little time to be children with dreams and passions, and children with hope in the notion that they’ll get there eventually. 

A war is brewing, but, for a moment, just for a tiny sliver of time, the children elect to let it brew. 

**Author's Note:**

> The original plan was to write something cute and fluffy but I started thinking abt their seventh year (because I wanted to include Lily) and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how fucking young they were when they fought in the war?? and so I rolled out this ball of angst I hope you liked it!! (a cute one is in the works tho, I promise!)


End file.
